


Safety

by TheWorkoftheHeart



Series: Papa Zeff and the Little Eggplant [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Gen, How Many Times Do I Have to Tell You This Old Man, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Sanji Is Not A Vinsmoke, Zeff's a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWorkoftheHeart/pseuds/TheWorkoftheHeart
Summary: He would be okay, right?
Series: Papa Zeff and the Little Eggplant [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715152
Comments: 14
Kudos: 144





	Safety

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry in advance. it ends happy though?

_“Get me out, get me out, get me out!”_

Sanji was banging on the pantry door, his breath caught in the center of his throat. It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

_So cold, so lonely, so dark. Stone walls and rusted grates, hardly able to see two feet in front of himself._

“Patty? Carne? Someone? Please help me!”

_No matter how hard he tried, the door wouldn’t open. Trapped, trapped, trapped, feels like suffocating-_

Sanji slid to the back of the pantry and barrelled towards the door, shoving his weight onto it as he slammed against it. Instead of a click, a release, he was just shot backwards again, falling onto the tile floor.

He’d only gone out for a snack. It terrified him when there was a loud noise, the sound of the door closing behind him, the realization that the door was completely stuck. Had he been here minutes? Hours? He wasn’t sure. It was terrifying either way.

_Feels like a prison. Get me out._

Sanji hiccuped as he cried loudly, banging his fists on the door in hopes someone would hear him. He wasn’t stuck, right? It was an accident, it had to be, right? Right?

He was supposed to be safe here. Zeff promised him. Why? Why was he trapped?

More steps back, a running start. He slammed into the door with equal force, banging his head on the wood and falling backwards onto the tile floor. It was cold. It made his entire soul feel like ice. 

He stayed seated on the floor, crying into his knees as he tried to figure out a way out of this. He would be okay, right? Someone would come looking for him, right?

Right?

═════════

Zeff heard Sanji get up almost immediately that evening. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get up to get water, to eat, to try and cook something; it almost always resulted in Zeff going to fetch him, scolding him for wandering so late at night. “A good chef needs to rest, or his cooking won’t be worth a damn,” he would say, and Sanji would give an unbelieving reply in return. It was clockwork, really, so Zeff laid awake counting the tics of his clock before finally opting to go chase the little bastard.

It took him a moment or two to get his balance, but he set off nonetheless, wondering if he’d meet Sanji halfway down towards the kitchen or if he’d catch him trying to cook something with half-lidded eyes. As much of a pain in the ass as Sanji was, he can’t say that he didn’t remind him of himself as a child: determined and stubborn as a mule.

However, as he descended the stairs towards the kitchen, it was crying that got his attention. Loud, violent crying. Zeff cursed himself for not bringing something downstairs with him to defend himself. If someone was crying like that, they had to be hurt; hearing that it was Sanji only made him worry more. Had someone snuck aboard the ship? Did they hurt him, are they still hurting him? What were once slow footsteps immediately sped into a near sprint, and he almost tripped as he finally opened the kitchen door.

Nothing. No person, no blood, no signs of a fight. All he could see was a broken shelf on the far wall, a heavy bag of flour leaning against the pantry door, broken glass from a few jars of herbs littering the floor. Sanji’s cries were coming from within, he could hear.

The poor kid got himself stuck. Though, he’d never heard someone cry like that over something so miniscule before.

He made his way towards the debris, kicking glass out of the way and leaning down to push the flour bag far enough from the door for him to peek inside. As the door opened up, he could see Sanji, curled into a ball and sobbing his heart out. He looked upwards to Zeff but couldn’t even open his eyes; he just hiccuped, holding out his arms.

“Dad,” he cried, and he felt his heart drop to the pit of his chest. Sanji’d never called him that before, and as wonderful as it felt to know he saw him as a father, it also made a chill go through his gut. This kid was unusually terrified, it could only mean that...

Wordlessly, Zeff leans down and scoops Sanji into his arms, feeling Sanji grip him tightly as he continues to sob uncontrollably. No good with comfort, especially not like this, he just holds the kid tight, feeling him tremor and cry. It makes him hurt in the pits of his stomach, knowing what he must’ve gone through to be so terrified of something so seemingly miniscule. His original desire to scold Sanji for wandering off so late at night seems so far in the back of his mind now, more focused on letting the kid know he was safe. 

The Baratie would be his safe place, no matter what. Zeff would make sure of that.


End file.
